


My written universe

by ToruOikxwa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, Illnesses, IwaOi AU, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, This will hurt, Writing This Hurt, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToruOikxwa/pseuds/ToruOikxwa
Summary: “I hate this photo.” Oikawa confessed. “This is not how you should remember Iwaizumi Hajime. He looks ill there. He shouldn’t be remembered as ill. Or stuck in a box in the ground. Pick your favourite of his insults and remember him that way instead. Don’t remember this horrible photo of him in that stupid hospital gown, with that almost smile. He deserves better than that.” Oikawa exhaled deeply. “Iwaizumi Hajime deserves rain.” He stated quietly.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime & Matsukawa Issei & Oikawa Tooru, Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 6





	My written universe

It was warm. That's the only thing that went through Oikawa’s mind, the temperature. He had always imagined that it would rain. For the last four years whenever he thought about this day, whenever he and Iwaizumi would discuss details, Oikawa always imagined that it’d be raining. He couldn’t fathom the idea that it wouldn’t rain today. It was such a stupid thing to obsess over, but the heavens were  _ supposed  _ to have opened. But instead, it was sunny. It was actually sunny. Iwaizumi deserved more than just another sunny day. He deserved for even the weather to mourn him.

All Oikawa could think of was the weather. He only snapped out of that train of thought when Makki placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re up.” He said softly as he gestured towards the podium next to the stupidly oversized picture of Iwaizumi. Oikawa hated that picture. It was one that Matsukawa had taken a few months earlier, and Iwaizumi had instantly fallen in love with it, insisting that that would be the picture they use today. But Oikawa couldn’t stand the way Iwaizumi looked in it. He didn’t look like himself - he looked underweight and tired, and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it used to. His hair was flat and thin, and the colour had almost completely drained from his skin. It was an awful representation of the guy.

The podium was shorter than it had looked from his seat. He stood there and looked out at the room full of people. Almost everyone was crying, and it pissed Oikawa off. He had spent  _ every day  _ with Iwaizumi;  _ every second _ , and only around six of these people had actually come to visit Iwaizumi in the last five months. As he looked at each and every face, he let out a loud tut, and confusion lined the guests face. “Thank you all for coming today.” His tone was insincere, and everyone picked up on it. “Pretty much all of you sent flowers, condolence cards, all that crap, and now seems like as good a time as any to say that none of those things are necessary. Please don’t send anything else. I know he’s dead and I don’t need any of you to tell me that you’re ‘sorry for my loss’ or whatever.” He sighed. “I don’t need to introduce myself - if you don’t know who I am, you shouldn’t be here. Hajime and I… we got married four years ago, just after he got his diagnosis. We’d never really talked about marriage before that point, but we were sitting on the couch just taking time to process it all, and I asked him what he wanted to do. I meant in regards to treatment, but he just looked at me, and smiled…” He inhaled shakily as he thought back to that day, and his lip curled up on one side as his eyes welled up for the first time today. “He had such a gentle look in his eyes. And he said ‘Tooru, what I want to do is spend every single day I have left with you.’ And then he stopped for a second, and he walked into our bedroom, and when he came back he had a small ring box in his hands. He flicked it open, looked me dead in the eyes, and said ‘let’s do this’.” Oikawa smiled, and huffed out a slight chuckle. “And then he called me a dumbass.” A small laugh waved across the room. Oikawa glanced back at the casket and stayed silent for a few moments. No one tried to rush him, or asked him to keep going. Everyone waited patiently for him to be ready. “Hajime talked about today at least once a week.” He turned back to the room. “I hated it, it felt so morbid, but he insisted that I prepare myself for it. So I am fully prepared for today. But he never prepared me for the day he was actually going to die.” He paused again as he thought about what to say next. “I didn’t cry when he died.” Oikawa admitted. “I was holding him in my arms, and he just… fell asleep. I reckon that death was a release for him. His last few weeks were… hard. And the peaceful tone after he finally fell asleep, it felt almost wrong to cry. So I didn’t. Until after they took him away. I’ve been crying everyday since then. But not today. Not yet.” Oikawa tapped on the podium. He hadn’t really prepared a speech, he was just going with whatever came to him in the moment. He glanced at the picture again, and frowned. “I hate this photo.” He confessed. “This is not how you should remember Iwaizumi Hajime. He looks ill there. He shouldn’t be remembered as ill. Or stuck in a box in the ground. Pick your favourite of his insults and remember him that way instead. Don’t remember this horrible photo of him in that stupid hospital gown, with that  _ almost  _ smile. He deserves better than that.” Oikawa exhaled deeply. “Iwaizumi Hajime deserves rain.” He stated quietly. “Iwaizumi gave me… he gave me the experience of being truly understood, completely supported and deeply loved - and I will carry that with me for the rest of my life. I never deserved Hajime. Not even slightly. But he somehow made me forget that, and he made me feel like maybe I did deserve to be happy. And with him I was.” Oikawa smiled softly. “Things will never be the same. Nothing will ever feel truly good again, but my world is better for the years I spent with him. As heartbroken as I am, I knew this was coming. I’ve been without him for almost two weeks now, and tonight I’ll go home alone again. And I’ll sleep on my couch because I can’t bring myself to sleep in our bed alone. And tomorrow morning I’ll make pancakes, because they’re his favourite. And I’ll probably make three extra out of habit. And then I’ll sit on our balcony with a cup of tea, and I’ll look out over the ocean for hours because I don’t know what to do with my days now that he’s gone. But life goes on." That seemed like a cliche, but Oikawa really didn't care anymore. "There's so much more I could say about him, but there’s also a lot I want to be selfish with. I want to be the only one that knows the way he smiled to himself whenever he watched Makki and Mattsun lean on each other. I want to be the only one that knows how he always dreamt of travelling, but never did because he knew how much the people around him needed him. I want to be the only one that knows his guilty pleasure tv show was Ru Paul’s Drag race, and that he’d watch it every Saturday afternoon and lie to people saying that was his  _ ‘recovery period’ _ .” A small laugh escaped everyone at that piece of information, and Oikawa smiled a little; feeling for the first time like he was doing  _ something _ right here. “I don’t want to tell you how he used to sing to himself as he was cleaning, and had a surprisingly good voice. I don’t want you all to know how when he’d get scared, he’d squeeze my hand a little tighter than usual - a change that you wouldn’t notice unless you’d grown accustomed to it. I really don’t want to tell you that when we eloped and read our vows, he cried more than any of you are right now.” He gestured around the room at everyone, and he was right, they were all crying. “There’s so much about him that I want to be selfish with. But that wouldn’t be fair. Makki and Mattsun, you two deserve to know that he described you as  _ ‘the one truly destined pairing in this world’  _ \- ourselves included in that. Makki, you deserve to know that he saw you as the person with the most untapped potential in this world, and that he genuinely believed that if  _ you _ want something bad enough, nothing will be able to stop you. You guys deserve to know all of the amazing little things about him that I want to keep to myself. The world deserves to see the parts that Hajime kept hidden. Of all of the people I’ve met, I can honestly say that no one has made a bigger difference in the world than he did.” Small, quiet sobs were filling the room, everyone was trying to cry as quietly as possible, as to not interrupt his eulogy. 

He turned away from the crowd and looked over at the casket once again, walking over to it, and placing his hand on top. “I hope you're at peace. And I hope you’re not alone while you wait for me. I love you. And I will miss you until the end of my days.” He closed his eyes and said a small prayer in his head, then went and sat back down without another word.

Oikawa didn’t pay attention to anything else during the service. He simply thought about how he had to go to the lawyer’s office after this. How there were apparently some final parts from Iwaizumi’s will that needed ironing out - he had requested to not be contacted unless it was absolutely necessary, but apparently there was something Iwaizumi had left him that he didn’t already have access to.

***

Oikawa smiled politely at the lawyer sitting across from him. “How are you doing today, Oikawa?” He asked, sympathy. 

He huffed out a chuckle. “I put my husband in the ground today. I can honestly say I’ve been better.” There was no point bullshitting here - he wasn’t exactly thrilled about going to this meeting on his way to the wake. “Sorry if this is rude, but can we just get this over with? I have a wake to go to. I’m pretty sure I have to show up at some point or people are gonna start thinking I’ve wrapped myself around a telephone pole or something.” He half-joked with a completely serious tone in his voice.

“Of course.” The lawyer agreed, respectfully. “I do apologise that this is happening today, but Iwaizumi requested that these be given to you after his funeral.” The lawyer handed Oikawa a small shoebox. “He requested that you open it once you’re home alone.” 

“What’s in it?” Oikawa asked, curiously.

The man sitting opposite him shrugged. “He didn’t specify.” He confirmed. “He said that he hopes this could bring you some closure, and if not, he hopes it will at least bring you some comfort.” 

Oikawa thanked him, then left. As he drove to the wake, he side-eyed the box on his passenger seat a few times. Iwaizumi had apparently specified to not open this until he was back home alone, so Oikawa would respect that, but he was still curious. 

***

The atmosphere in the room felt almost  _ too _ positive. Iwaizumi wouldn’t want everyone to cry, but he certainly deserved mournful tears. “Oikawa.” Matsukawa spoke with a slight sadness in his voice. “This is a stupid question, but how are you doing?” He asked as he handed the slightly shorter a glass of whiskey. 

Oikawa downed the drink in one. “That is a stupid question.” He confirmed. “I’m doing shitty. Hajime is dead. And I wish it were me.” He said honestly, and Matsukawa’s brow furrowed in concern. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do something stupid and kill myself. I just…” he groaned, frustratedly. “I miss him.” Matsukawa gestured for Hanamaki to bring another drink over, which he did, handing it to Oikawa. “Thank you.” Oikawa said softly. “Both of you have been great.” He ran one hand through his hair as he sighed. “I hate this so fucking much.” He admitted, and both of them looked at him sympathetically. “Don’t.” He insisted. “Please don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your sympathy. I just want today to be over.” The two of them glanced at each other, then nodded.

“Go home, Oikawa.” Makki urged, and Oikawa cocked his head in confusion. “We’ll cover for you. We’ll tell people to not contact you, at least for today. Go home and remember him in your own way.” Oikawa smiled and thanked them both, then left without speaking to anyone else.

He had only had one drink - he didn’t drink the second one - so he drove himself home. As he pulled up in his driveway, he looked at the box in his passenger seat and sighed heavily. Part of him was desperate to open it, to see what Iwaizumi’s final gift to him was, but another part of him didn’t want to know, just wanted to preserve this last little part of his husband. As he sat there, everything finally washed over him, and he could no longer hold back the tears that started streaming down his face. As his cheeks slowly got damper, he leaned his head against the steering wheel, sitting there in silence as he tried to compose himself. “Fuck you.” He said quietly to the box next to him. “Fuck you for leaving me. And fuck you for making me fall in love with you in the first place.” He was angry at Iwaizumi, even though it wasn't his fault. He had to be, because if he wasn’t angry, he would fall apart completely.

The house felt empty. Iwaizumi had been living in there in his last few weeks - it was easy enough to set up ventilators and central lines. They made the house feel a bit like a hospital, but at least he had been  _ here _ . He wasn’t anymore. Oikawa sat on the couch, holding the box in his hands, just staring. It was an easy enough box to open, and from the outside it looked innocent enough, but it made Oikawa nervous thinking about what Iwaizumi could have possibly wanted him to wait to see.

He opened the box, and it was a lot of tissue paper, with a note lay on top. 

_ Tooru, I’m not always good at expressing how I feel, I can’t always say what I mean. I know you miss me already, and I know this must all be so difficult for you, so I wrote these for you. You don’t have to read them. You can burn them, leave them unopened, do whatever you want with them. I wrote these simply to bring you comfort. I wrote these to tell you how I feel about you - you already know, but this will reaffirm that for you. I wrote these because I couldn’t just say this all to your face. I’m bad with words, Tooru. You know that. I needed time to think about everything I wanted to say to you. The last things I want you to know. The moments that I want you to remember in your years to come. Oikawa Tooru, you are my entire universe. You made me who I am, and there is no way I can thank you enough for that. _

_ Read these at your own pace. Take your time. And if you choose not to read them at all, that’s okay too. Do what you need to do to survive this. You will be okay - I truly believe that. You made the 25 years I had worth living.  _

_ I love you, Tooru. _

The page slowly dampened with the tears that dripped off Oikawa's face. This was it. This was what Iwaizumi had been working on all this time. He pulled the tissue paper out of the box, and was met with eleven separate envelopes, and a starmap keyring, with the date 07.06.XX on the rear. Their wedding day. 

The envelopes were labelled, presumably in the order to read them. They weren’t numbered, though. It was far more Oikawa-centric than that. They were labelled based on the solar system. From ‘sun’ all the way to ‘pluto’; he smiled softly as he recalled the amount of times he’d said the phrase ‘ _ Pluto should have remained a planet’ _ in the last four years alone. 

He wanted to read all of them - every last one - and he wanted to read them all now. But that seemed like it would be disrespectful. Iwaizumi had spent time on these, and to just read through all of them in a rushed sense would be like dismissing all that time. Instead of reading any of the letters, he picked the notecard back up, rereading it, scanning over the words again, recreating his partner's voice in his head as he read. And he remembered the day Iwaizumi died. He actually seemed okay that day. He seemed more awake, more lively than the weeks preceding that. Like his body had a final rally before death. The nurse described it as ‘terminal lucidity’ when Oikawa questioned it as he watched his husband be wheeled away in a bodybag, but Oikawa preferred to look at it as a final ‘fuck you’ from the universe. A burst of hope before ripping away the one thing he loved the most. 

It was a cruel phenomenon.


End file.
